Sermon — October 27, 2024
Michael Fenn
A fun fact about me this summer: I had a minimum of one hundred cups of water thrown in my face. For those of you who don’t know, this summer, I had the privilege of serving as the Assistant Camp Director at the Barbara C. Harris Camp. A summer camp that is run in association with the Diocese of Massachusetts. As you would imagine, we get into a lot of odd and sticky situations because you have dozens of children, a handful of counselors, and a whole summer camp with a lake, sports fields, arts and crafts, and so much sugar.
One of the fun things we did was a water carnival. For the uninitiated, it involves remaking your classic field games with water-based elements. You use a big bucket of water for the “goose” in duck-duck-goose, for example. The first week, it went ~~swimmingly~~, we had some logistical hitches (the cups we were using for one of the games kept breaking, though such are logistical hitches at summer camp). But overall, it was all going very well—until–I hear a piercing scream and see a rabid band of teenage girls sprinting for one of the big buckets we were using to refill the game stations.
Now, I think if you are a parent or have worked in childcare before, you will know the difference between “good scream” and “bad scream”. Two thoughts went through my head very quickly: these were good screams, and I know what is going to happen next. The moment the other children (and counselors) realized what was happening…all bets were off. Any structure to whatever games we were running broke down as mobs of children descended on the closest refill station with whatever receptacle (re: water based weapon) they had in hand.
In the moment, there was a feeling of loss as the very well-thought out afternoon I had meticulously planned for the benefit of these campers gave way to absolute chaos. There was a brief period of uncertainty as I locked eyes with the camp director–I again suspect many parents will know what I am talking about–and wondered if something dangerous was about to happen that we needed to stop. And a lot of feelings of water in my eyes as the campers I so dedicatedly served day after day repeatedly threw cups of water in my face–in their defense, I did, as Assistant Camp Director, comandeer the main hose for my weapon of choice at the beginning of this water altercation.
As we ran out of the various sources of water, and shut off the hose, and people stopped and looked around, there was exactly what I had expected: a bunch of happy campers and counselors. In that afternoon, something that easily could have been a disaster or disapointment instead became an amazingly fun moment.
Believe it or not, this is reflected in our scriptures: in our moments when we feel helpless, or when things are falling apart, God is still operating towards our restoration.
In Mark today we experience an example of a miraculous restoration of a beggar. I think it is easy to say that this man is restored from blindness to sightedness–though I don’t think that is exactly a faithful reading. The first reason is that Eli, an important teacher and leader, is blind for at least one important part of his story. This shows that rather than blindness being this beggar’s primary issue, it is the fact that his community abandoned him in a time of need that is the issue. The second reason I think it isn’t about the blindness per say is that Jesus asks the man what it is he wants–Jesus does not assume that what this man needs is his sight. Of course, the transformation that takes place restores this man’s sight, like he asks, but it seems to be more about his place in the community rather than the specific faculties he has. As we engage with this miraculous action of Jesus, it would behove us to remember this.
In any case, in Mark Jesus acts for the restoration of this man. It is crowded, Jesus and the disciples are approaching Jerusalem and the events of the crucifixion. It is probably already chaotic and overstimulating, and this beggar imposes himself on an already inconvenient situation. Jesus, in the chaos of the situation and in what appears to be the hopelessness of this man’s life, intervenes acts for his restoration. Similarly, in Jeremiah, God promises to restore the people and gather them back to Him after they have been under exile. Not only that, God promises to gather them from the farthest parts of the earth, and to gather all the people–not just the able bodied people who can travel easily. He promises to restore all of His people, and bring them back with consolation.
It is easy to say that God acts for our restoration if the stakes are water in your face, and maybe a few children with some water stuck in their ears. It is also easy to recognize this restorative activity of God as something that has happened to these Bibilical heroes, and relegate it to the dust of ancient history.
Maya Shankar was studying the violin at Julliard, and was by all accounts going to be one of the best violinists of our time. The entirety of her life revolved only around one thing, one instrument, and being great at it. Until one normal day, when she was practicing like she did every other day, she permanently injured her hand–and would never be able to play the violin ever again. The entirety of what she built her life on was suddenly ripped out from under her, all of the time she had spent over the course of decades was entirely wasted.
Maya Shankar would eventually go on to receive her doctorate in neuroscience many years after this tragic twist of fate. In her life now she hosts a popular podcast called “A Slight Change of Plans” where week after week she interviews people whose lives have been completely overturned by some force: career-ending injuries like her own, but also other accidents and tragedies that have robbed people of their life’s work, and even sense of identity.
In each case though, these people find that they are not actually as “done” as they thought they would be. If you had asked Dr. Shankar at Julliard what she would have done without being able to play the violin, she would have told you that her very life, her reason of existence, would be entirely gone. And yet, here she is today with an award winning podcast that provides not only a sense of meaning to Dr. Shankar, but also is a phenomenal help to others who may be experiencing something like she did. Even in a career ending injury, robbed of her mission in life, it does not seem like God was done acting in Dr. Shankar’s life. Like our beggar who transforms into a follower of Christ, and like the people who are brought back from exile, Dr. Shankar found a restoration after an immense tragedy, and helps others find their restoration after tragedy.
I have given you a relatively silly example–water fights at summer camp. And a relatively extreme example in Dr. Shankar. Though maybe you, like Dr. Shankar, were at some point going to be the next “great” in whatever skill you pursued. I suspect though, that many of us find ourselves in a more ordinary mess than that. We may not be a beggar on the road outside Jericho, nor are we in exile, and we likely have not experienced career ending tragedies. Our messy situations might be harder to define: bad grades, lost or strained relationships, goals we never acheived, promotions we did not get, or other shortcomings and disappointments that add up.
Even so, our scriptures today remind us that even when things are falling apart–like a group of rabid teenagers descending on you with water to throw in your face; when things seem hopeless–like a blind beggar maligned by his society; when we have a career ending injury, and our life’s purpose is irreversibly taken away from us; or when we amount what might be a more normal amount of failures, God is never done with us. Not only that, but that God is the master of taking what we believe to be a hopeless situation, a blind beggar, a people far away from home in exile, and showing us that our notions of hopelessness are not God’s plan.
Archbishop Desmond Tutu puts it better than I could: “There is no such thing as a totally hopeless case. Our God is an expert at dealing with chaos, with brokenness, with all the worst that we can imagine. God created order out of disorder, cosmos out of chaos, and God can do so always, can do so now”. In Jeremiah God led the people from a sense of brokenness to a sense of wholeness, in Mark God made a beggar a follower of Christ, and God is operating in our world and in our lives today. In the name of the one who loved us first. Amen